TOMORROWLAND NOW
by Lord Akiyama
Summary: Sequel to "Dark Storm Dawn."  Trapped in a realm like no other, Jim Hawkins, Alice Kingsleigh, Peter Pan, Kidagakash, Quasimodo, and Jack Sparrow must venture through the unknown to free Yen Sid and the Twelve, thereby saving the whole of existence.
1. DOCUMENT FILE NO 01

**TOMORROWLAND NOW**

by Lord Akiyama

The sequel to _Dark Storm Dawn_

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><p>"<em>Tomorrow offers new frontiers in science, adventure and ideals… the Atomic Age… the challenges of outer space… and the hope for a peaceful and unified world."<em>

-Walt Disney

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><p>DOCUMENT FILE NO. 01<p>

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><p>Christopher Jenkins opened his eyes. He stared straight up, finding himself looking at nothing but empty black space. Still, he felt that he was lying on a hard surface. With a slight groan, he slowly positioned himself into a siting position. It took him a moment to remember that he was on board a pirate ship. One that, for whatever reason, had been outfitted to serve the needs of some strange creatures. The kind that had been ruthlessly hunting after his wife and her companions. It seemed like a minute ago that everything was starting to work in their favor. But then a strange series of lights flashed, followed by an unusual wave of energy that knocked him off his feet and onto his back. He did not know for how long he was out.<p>

The sound of someone else moaning was enough to alert him that he was not alone on the vessel. He turned his head over to find a woman lying at the ground. The color of her hair being blonde made him wonder for a split second if she was his wife. Then he noted the length. Helga Sinclair had long blonde hair that was tied up in a single braid. This woman had short, almost medium length hair that did not even touch her shoulders. A further inspection of her features revealed that she certainly appeared much younger than his wife, though that was the kind of fact he would not dare reveal openly.

The young woman stirred herself awake. As soon as she could adjust her eyes to see her surroundings properly and clearly, she gasped and instinctively pulled herself into a ball as though doing so would protect her. She looked around frantically, presumably never having been on the ship before. Then she looked far beyond the ship itself, looking out in what appeared to be empty black space as far as the eye could see. A frightened expression painted all across her face.

"Qu… Quasi…?" she managed to utter in a whisper. "Quasimodo?" After a moment in which there was only silence, she slowly got to her feet and edge over to the side of the ship. "Quasimodo." Her expression of fright began morphing into panic. "Quasimodo!" She then suddenly turned to Chris and gasped, almost as though she was able to recognize his presence after some time. "Who are you? Where are we? Where is Quasimodo?"

It took Chris a moment to register what was happening before he finally got a chance to speak. "The name's Chris Jenkins," he said, answering her first question. "Where we are, I'm really not sure. Where Quasimodo is, I'm not really sure either. Last I recall, he was with my wife, trying to help free some of her companions who were kidnapped." He was not entirely sure, but he had a feeling that the woman's name was Madellaine. It was the name he understood Quasimodo kept calling out for and she was obviously looking for him as well.

"What do you mean?" Madellaine questioned further, still appearing quite uncertain about what was happening around her.

"I would assume it's because we all helped in getting him to rescue you," Chris replied, though he himself was not sure of the validity of what he was saying. At first, he could not remember what Quasimodo even looked like. After a moment, he remembered and concluded that he should probably choose the words used to describe him carefully given how much Madellaine cared for the guy. "Look, to be perfectly honest, I haven't the faintest idea of what is going on right now. All I remember is that we found the place hold my wife's companions captive, I stayed on the ship in case some baddie tried to jump us from behind, the flying pubescent dropped you off so that you would be out of harm's way for Quasimodo's sake. Then suddenly some lights flashed, I get knocked down, and now we appear to be in some black void."

"But what happened to Quasimodo and the others?" Madellaine asked.

Chris shrugged. "Wish I knew myself," he answered.

"I know where they are," a voice spoke from behind Chris. The two turned to find that the speaker appeared to be an anthropomorphic mouse wearing a black hooded robe. Chris slowly recognized him as Mickey Mouse, described by his wife's companions as the apprentice to the so-called Master of Masters, Yen Sid. "More importantly, I know what has happened."

"You mind telling us?" Chris asked. "And we'd appreciate it if you make it simple and to the point."

"I'm afraid that won't be an easy thing to do," Mickey stated. He then took a deep breath before he continued. "But I'll try. The others are trapped in a plane of existence called The Grid. A digital frontier set in a landscape separate from our reality known as Cyberspace. But it appears that, using the life essence of the Master of Masters and of the Twelve, a computer program labeled as the Master Control Program has acquired the power and energy needed to occupy all planes of existence."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Chris questioned with a confused brow raised.

"Is there was a way to get Quasimodo and the others out of where they are?" Madellaine asked roughly a second after Chris started speaking.

"Um…" Mickey managed to nervously utter before attempting once again to explain. He started by trying to answer the first question. "Whoever the true mastermind behind the kidnappings was appears to have figure out a way to use the Master of Masters and the Twelve as energy currents to supply the Master Control Program, or MCP, with enough power to take over all forms of reality. Which is what is happening as we speak?"

"I'm guessing that's supposed to explain why we're in the middle of empty space," Chris noted as he looked around. "Because reality as we know it is being replaced by whatever this MCP wants it to be."

"Correct," Mickey said.

"And you said the others are trapped in some place called The Grid?" Chris asked.

"Correct again," Mickey replied. "That is the home dimension of the MCP. It is also where the MCP is most powerful. Enough to prevent any of us from stopping him or to even rescue the others." Upon hearing this, Madellaine slowly dropped to her knees in sorrow. "I'm really sorry. But there is nothing we can do."

"So the bad guys win?" Chris questioned firmly.

Mickey hesitated to answer at first. "There is a slim possibility that the MCP can be stopped," he began to say. "But that rests entirely upon Quasimodo, Jim Hawkins, Queen Kidagakash, Alice Kingsleigh, Peter Pan, and Jack Sparrow. Because they are on The Grid, they are the only ones who have an opportunity to shut down the MCP from within and free the others. Only there's no way of communicating with them, and even if there was, we have no clue of what to do."

"Lemme see if I got this straight," Chris stated. "My wife, her companions, and Yen Sid are being used as energy currents to make this MCP so powerful that it can rule existence. Quasimodo and some others are trapped in the thing's home-world called The Grid. Those six must somehow, without us being able to communicate with them, figure out that the only way to escape, as well as save my wife and the rest, is to shut down the MCP. And they have to do so without knowing how, something even we don't know. Have I left anything out?" Mickey slowly shook his head. Chris then let out a defeated sigh. "Well, that's just peachy."

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><p>James Pleiades Hawkins had to blink a few times, as if it would help make sure that he was indeed seeing what he thought he was seeing. He then took a quick moment to pat himself, making sure that he was flesh and blood. Afterward, he immediately began to survey his surroundings. It was strange, what he saw. They looked as though they were like any other setting one could find. Only it seemed like there were actually shadows. Shadows that were lit by extreme illuminations of light, almost as though they were backlit or neon. It was both familiar and unfamiliar.<p>

"Oh, man…" he managed to utter under his breath. He quickly shook his head and tried to focus himself into believing what he thought was reality. "This isn't happening. It only thinks it's happening."

"Okay," a female voice spoke. "Getting a really bad sense of déjà vu here." Jim looked over to see that the speaker was a girl with dirty brown hair and wearing a Victorian-era dress. He remembered that her name was Alice. "Definitely not a good thing to have at the moment."

"Nishentop Adlantisag," another female voice spoke. This one sounding slightly older. "What is this place?" Having silver hair and darker skin coloring, Jim recalled her name being something like Kida. She was the Queen of some foreign land.

"Lads, we have more pressin' matters to worry about," a male voice spoke in a commanding, yet rather slurring tone. One that Jim was all too familiar with having been around pirates lately. "Where the hell is my bloody ship?" This so-called outstanding citizen had previously identified himself to him as Captain Jack Sparrow.

"Can't you just see for one minute that we are not exactly where we previously were a minute ago?" another male voice spoke. This one directing a very stern, condescending tone at Jack. "Not able to do means you're either blind or stupid, and I doubt you've any booze to drink recently." Jim remembered the other speaker being named Peter Pan. And that the scarf wrapped around his head covered the spot where a missing eye was supposed to be.

"I don't drink booze, mate," Jack responded firmly. Then he raised his voice in finishing his apparent statement. "I drink rum!"

"I don't understand," a third male voice said. This one belonging to a man Jim learned is named Quasimodo. The poor soul looked noting like a human being and was quite deformed that it was any wonder that he was given the name the Hunchback of Notre Dame when he first saw him. "What is going on here? Where are we?"

"Not really sure," Jim said in reply, continuing to survey his surroundings. "All I know is that one second these electrical bolts were shooting all over the place, and then a giant cylinder with a face appeared. As if we just jumped from one extreme visual experience to another, really."

"None of this makes any sort of sense at all," Alice stated. "And I've seen bizarre landscapes before."

"Perhaps another question we should be asking ourselves is what we are supposed to do," Kida said. "The lion, Simba? He was trying to tell us something before he was thrown into a container. Something I believe we were to do."

"Then this should be a walk in the park," Jack proclaimed. "We dunno where we are, we dunno what we're supposed to do, and we dunno what the bloody hell is goin' on. Right ol' mess I got myself into."

"How many times do I have to say it, no one forced you to tag along!" Peter declared to Jack. He then rolled his eye and sighed. "Look, lemme just fly up and see if I can get a good idea of where we might be." Peter turned and proceeded to launch himself into the air. Only he found himself immediately dropping back down onto the ground, as though all he had done was jump. This left him quite bewildered.

"That was quick," Jack said sarcastically. "Did you happen to meet any geese while you were up there?"

"I don't understand," Peter muttered, scratching his head in confusion. "I should still be able to fly even when I'm outside of Neverland."

"You think maybe wherever we are might have some sort of magical presence?" Quasimodo asked curiously. "I dunno, that it might temper with other people's abilities."

"Hard to say," Alice said in reply. "Peter is the only one of the six of us with any sort of magical abilities. We would need to find the others, and last I recall they were trapped in a bunch of containers. None of which appear to be anywhere in our line of sight at the moment."

"Just adds to the list of questions we got no answers to," Jim noted under his breath.

"Perhaps we should take things one step at a time, as my beloved would say," Kida stated. "I believe we should first answer the question of where we are. Once we answer that, then perhaps we can answer the others questions."

"Works for me," Peter said in agreement.

"Same here," Quasimodo said.

"Don't think we have much of a choice really," Jim said with a sigh. "Okay, let's figure out what this place is." He quickly turned his attention to Jack. "And let's try to stay together."

"I'd rather not, but since you're so insistent, mate," Jack said, putting on a fake grin as he spoke. "Tell you what, you direct me to the nearest pub and I'll follow you to the end's of the Earth."

"Like that's a promise you'll ever keep," Peter snorted aside.

"And can we please stop with the bickering?" Alice asked in a stern tone. "It's annoying and will not get us anywhere." She looked at Peter firmly, who merely turned his head away and crossed his arms over his chest as if to show that he's surrendering to her command. "Thank you. Now, I suggest we move on before anything else happens."

In agreement, all six slowly made their way out of the spot they were in. It was later deduced that they were in some random back alley of what they would discover to be a breathtaking metropolis. One that left them both in awe and in fright. For it was a city like any they had ever seen before. Massive and great, dark and haunting. The neon lights that ran throughout were all that lit up the streets and the buildings. Without them, it would have been extremely difficult to see the features of the otherwise black landscape of their surroundings. The skies were black, only every once in a while letting off blue lightning bolts to show that the clouds engulfed all that was up above.

Buildings that reached high into the sky with glass surrounding on all sides so that one could easily see within each level any sort of activity that was taking place. The signs and advertisements were just as impressive, such as one listing that a movie called _Chicken Little: The True Story_ was screening or another that displayed the name of the venue as Redd Rocket's Pizza Port. It was all so new, so foreign, and so unbelievable for the six of them to see. Or rather just five, as there were familiarities for one.

"Almost like home…" Jim whispered under his breath.

"And here I thought Singapore was interesting," Jack mused aloud. He then turned to the others. "So, mates. Any idea on how exactly we're gonna solve the riddle of where we are?"

"Well, I'm sure we'll have better success if we manage to move more than ten yards," Peter responded in a stern voice. He was immediately hushed by Alice, as if to remind him that they were to stop bickering.

"I hate to say it, but I think the pirate is right," Quasimodo said. "How do we go about answering the question of what this place is?"

"I couldn't hurt to simply ask someone around here, now would it," Alice noted.

Suddenly, the six of them heard a whistle sound. One that clearly was done by a person. They looked in the direction of the whistle to see a small figure, dressed in a black hooded robe. The figure appeared to be edging out from behind a building and was waving to them. Waving so that they would follow, or at least come closer. Moments later, he moved itself back behind the building, disappearing from their line of sight.

"Tell me I'm not seeing things as if I'm Jack drunk on rum," Peter said, verbally reacting to what he had just seen.

"You are not the only one to have seen that," Kida responded. "The size of a child that was."

"Maybe it's that mouse," Alice said. "You know, the one who sort of informed everyone of what was going on at the time."

"Looked about the same height," Jim noted. "But I don't think I saw the ears. Did not even look like he had the ears underneath that hood."

"Looked a bit eunuch to me," Jack stated.

"Why does everyone look like a eunuch to you?" Peter asked in a slightly annoyed tone. "Seriously, you've been saying that about virtually every person we have run into since-"

Without any sort of warning, a white light shined directly upon the group, in particular Jim, Alice, and Peter. All looked up to see the source of the light. What they found was something they could not believe or even understand. It was a strangely shaped object with a large rectangular top and two massive pylon legs slowly descending upon them. The sheer size of the object, one that towered even some of the buildings, was enough to cause the group to attempt to scatter. However, Jim, Alice, and Peter found themselves stuck upon what appeared to be a platform ascending into the base of the rectangular portion. And with Peter unable to fly, the three of them had no where to run. Jim just managed to catch Kida, Jack, and Quasimodo retreating behind a building and then edging themselves out just enough to witness what would happen to him, Alice and Peter.

Turning around, the trapped three saw two figures approaching them. They were clad in black from head to toe with red lines that looped in strange shapes, illuminated as though they were neon or backlit. Each figure was holding what looked to be black lances with red beams shooting out of both ends. The kind of weapons that would make it clear that they would harm the three of them if they felt need to do so. Surrendering without so much as a flicker of resistance, the three were examined by the two figures.

"THESE PROGRAMS HAVE NO DISCS," one of the figures stated. It had a monotone voice that sounded almost synthesized. "SOMEMORE STRAYS."

The two figures then pushed Jim, Alice, and Peter into the object. There they found five other figures seemingly placed in a line with their backs against the wall. The three were positioned within the line, soon seeing an seemingly invisible barrier appearing over their feet and locking them into place. The two arresting figures each went into the pylon legs and disappeared within before the object began ascending like a flying vehicle. Jim, Alive, and Peter watched in amazement as they began to hover above the streets, seeing everything that passes by both ahead and below them. It would seem impressive had circumstances not been what they were.

They continue onward until the appeared to be flying toward an impressive structure that seemed isolated from all of the others. Once they had arrived, the object parked and the rectangular base descended down from the legs onto the floor. Three more black figures waited, two of which were armed with the same lance objects. The unarmed figure began to approach each of the eight individuals placed up against the wall, examining each one and announcing what sounded like some sort of verdict.

"RECTIFY," it said to the first individual. It moved to the second individual and examined it. "RECTIFY." The third individual looked rather nervous, as if it was afraid of a different verdict. Which was exactly what it got. "GAMES."

"No!" the individual cried in a male sounding voice, also seemingly synthesized, as two of the armed figures proceeded to forcibly escort it off. "Please!"

The examining figure continued, seemingly unmoving and uncaring of the individual's plight. "RECTIFY," it announced of the fourth individual it examined before coming upon Jim.

"Um, look," Jim began to say. Regardless of how foolhardy it seemed, he decided to try pleading his case. "You probably get this a lot, but there's been a big mistake."

"GAMES," the the examining figure announced.

Jim made little bid for resistance as the other two armed figures each grabbed one of his arms and dragged him out of the object. After several feet, they placed him upon the center of a square, his feet once again locked into place. He had just heard the examining figure give the same verdict to Alice as it did to him when he suddenly found himself descending downward. At the speed he was going, he found that he was dropping very deep. Deep enough to be unable to see the lights outside. After a short amount of time had passed, the speed of his descent slowed until he came to a complete stop within the center of a seemingly empty room.

Moments later, four figures approached him from parallel points. The had the look of female humanoids, clad in shining white latex with line of light accentuating their features, and their hair tied up in cylinder buns. They came closer until stopping within inches of his body, making Jim feel very uncomfortable.

"Um…" he managed to utter. "Can somebody tell me what the…" His voice trailed off when the two figures in his line of sight each raised a finger. The tips of their fingers then lit as though they were tiny torches. The figures then bent down and proceeded to run their fingers down the side of his pants, each burning an opening line. If he was only slight uncomfortable before, he was really uncomfortable now. "Hey, hey! It's got a zipper!" He then heard two more torches being lit from behind him and saw that the other two were running their fingers down his upper body clothes. When it appeared they were done cutting open his clothes, the four figures tore them off his body and into suction holes in the ground. Before Jim could react to being left in nothing but his boxers, he suddenly saw black fabric appearing out of thin air cover his body. Almost as if a jumpsuit was being digitized onto him.

The figures then marched to one of two parallel ends of the room. Each picking up two uniquely shaped objects and then marching back toward him. They each began placing the objects onto his body, appearing as though they were some sort of hard plastic armor. The pieces and the outfit then began to morph until the overall suit was one and it created a unique appearance that was appropriate for some kind of battle.

"This can't be good," Jim mused quietly under his breath.

Lines of light then turned on as one of the figures marched a few feet away from him toward something that was rising up from the ground.

"ATTENTION, PROGRAM," a voice spoke from off the walls of the room. It sounded like a synthesized female voice. "THE MASTER CONTROL PROGRAM HAS CHOSEN YOU TO SERVE YOUR SYSTEM ON THE GAME GRID. CONTINUED BELIEF IN THE USERS WILL LEAD TOWARDS RECEIVING THE STANDARD SUBSTANDARD TRAINING WHICH WILL RESULT IN EVENTUAL ELIMINATION. RENOUNCEMENT OF THIS BELIEF WILL LEAD TOWARDS ELIGIBILITY INTO JOINING THE WARRIOR ELITE OF THE MCP."

The far away figure proceeded to remove an object that was within the small platform that rose up from the ground. Jim looked at it as best as he could while the figure was returning toward him. It appeared to be a perfect circular disc.

"YOU WILL RECEIVE AN IDENTITY DISC," the voice continued. "EVERYTHING YOU DO OR LEARN WILL BE IMPRINTED ON THIS DISC. IF YOU LOSE YOUR DISC OR FAIL TO FOLLOW COMMANDS, YOU WILL BE SUBJECT TO IMMEDIATE DE-RESOLUTION."

The figure passed the disc onto another that was behind Jim. It proceeded to attach the disc upon his back. As it happened, Jim felt a strange feeling running through his body from his toes to the top of his head. Then noticed a flash the seemed only limited to his eyes. Once he had a grasp of his feelings again, he looked back at the figures surrounding him.

"Marrying complete," one of them stated, speaking with a female voice that seemed less synthesized than the other voices he had been hearing lately. "Disc activated and synchronized. Proceed to games."

"Games?" Jim questioned with a confused brow raised. He suddenly watched the figures march backwards toward the points in the room where they had first originated. "Hey. Where are you going?" One by one, the figures disappeared into the walls. When found that only one remained, he took this one opportunity to hopefully get one burning question he had answered. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Survive," the figure responded. She then disappeared into the wall.

The invisible barrier locking his feet to the floor retracted, allowing him to move. Jim then saw a doorway ahead open. Emerging out of the door was a blinding white light that seemed endless. Seeing no other alternative, he proceeded toward the light and to whatever it was that was about to happen to him.

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><p>END OF DOCUMENT FILE NO. 01<p>

TO CONTINUE, PROCEED TO DOCUMENT FILE NO. 02 WHEN AVAILABLE


	2. DOCUMENT FILE NO 02

**TOMORROWLAND NOW**

by Lord Akiyama

The sequel to _Dark Storm Dawn_

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><p>DOCUMENT FILE NO. 02<p>

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><p>"Why does everyone look like a eunuch to you?" Peter Pan asked in a slightly annoyed tone to Jack Sparrow. "Seriously, you've been saying that about virtually every person we have run into since-"<p>

Suddenly, a white light shined down directly upon the group. Those in particular in the light were Peter along with Jim Hawkins and Alice Kingsleigh. Everyone looked up to see the source of the light, discovering in both awe and shock a strange, gigantic object with a large rectangular top and two massive pylon legs. It slowly descended down upon them, causing the group an immediate attempt to scatter. The exact spot of the ground they were standing on rising unexpectedly as though it were a hidden platform prevented Jim, Alice, and Peter from escaping. Jack managed to retreat behind a nearby building along with Kidagakash and Quasimodo.

The three edged out as much as they were willing, stealing a peek at what was happening to their captured companions. Moments later, they watched as the object began to slowly ascend back into the air and fly off with their apparent prisoners in tow. With it increasing in heigh and distance away from the stranded members of the group, there was very little that they could do for the others.

"Might I suggest that we move in the opposite direction of wherever that thing just went," Jack stated, speaking up for the first time since all that had just happened.

"You're joking, right?" Quasimodo asked in disbelief. "We obviously have to go help them."

"Lad, yours truly has never met authority figures who would gladly hand over kidnapped mates just by walkin' up to them and askin' all nice and like," Jack responded. "I highly doubt we're going to encounter anythin' different. Furthermore, if that thin' is some sort of vessel, then it would seem reasonable that their weapons are just as impressive. We would not stand a chance, so it would be in our best interest to simply walk away. Savvy?"

"The pirate is right," Kida declared, trying to put an end to what was destined to be an elongated argument. She turned her full attention to Quasimodo as she spoke "We cannot just go after them without knowledge of their culture."

"The pirate has a name, you know," Jack said in objection. "Captain Jack Sparrow."

"However, when we have a better idea of where we are and how things are done here, then we will plan on how to rescue our companions," Kida continued to Quasimodo, ignoring Jack completely. "We cannot be of any help to them if we get ourselves captured or killed, do you not agree?" Quasimodo looked at Kida for a moment. Then his hung his head and sighed, a show of being defeated. "I am sorry that we can do nothing for them at the moment, but we need to figure out what this place is first above all others. It is useless to run around not knowing what is up and what is down."

"I believe that's up, luv," Jack said, point upward toward the sky. Then he pointed down to the ground. "And that's down." Kida and Quasimodo glared at Jack hard for a moment in response.

"Okay, so we hold off on helping the others for now," Quasimodo said, turning his attention back to Kida. "Weren't we having problems trying to decide how exactly we were going to figure out where we are?"

"If I recall, we were considering following the little figure we saw moments before," Kida replied. "Under the circumstances, we may have no other option but to do that."

"Best case scenario, I'll finally get some rum," Jack noted. His attempt at saying positive in their present situation. It earned him another hard glare from the other two.

Seconds later, the three finally took off in the direction they remembered seeing the little figure go through. Moving slowly so as to avoid running into anything else unexpected, they made their way through an alleyway. The lighting at the end of which started to grow brighter and brighter, though it seemed that the phrase had a different meaning in this land as something being dimly lit appeared to be the acceptable amount of light. As they came to the end of the alley, they saw that it led to a small building that had what appeared to be a large rocket ship permanently positioned on top. The neon lights out front read that establishment was called the Spirit of Refreshment.

"Well, what do you know," Jack proclaimed with a huge grin on his face. "Best case scenario."

"Perhaps we should go somewhere else," Quasimodo suggested, giving Jack quite an annoyed look.

"On the contrary, mate," Jack responded. "In my experience, there's no better place to learn about thin's than in a pub. And I'm talkin' the real, dirty business that the stiff upperclass aristocrats don't want you to hear. Meanin' that if we wanna know any way to free our lads from the authorities, chances are good we'll find some unsavory folks in there who can tell us."

"Stiff upperclass aristocrats?" Kida questioned, also giving Jack an annoyed look.

"So, when you think about it, it really is the best case scenario," Jack said to Quasimodo, his turn to ignore Kida completely. "We go in, I get myself a rum, and then we can figure out where we are and how we're gonna rescue the others."

"If you say so," Quasimodo said with a sigh. He was about to take one step toward the building when he was suddenly pulled back by Jack. "Hey! What was that for?"

"Now why would you wanna go do somethin' stupid like simply strollin' in?" Jack questioned back in reply.

"You just said that we would get information inside," Kida retorted in her answer.

"I did," Jack said. "But you people clearly don't know a thin' about bein' incognito. We obviously don't wanna draw unwanted attention to ourselves, mates. But wit' the way we look, we hardly look like the casual type. I look like a pirate, because I am. You bein' a hunchback would naturally make folks look at you twice. And you…" Jack paused when he came upon Kida to explain the way she looks. Seeing her with her arms crossed over her chest and looking as though she was more than willing to punch him if he said anything inappropriate, he tried to come up with something acceptable. "… Well, you just look different."

"And how are we supposed to look?" Quasimodo asked, beginning to get really frustrated with having to continue dealing with a person like Jack.

"How about takin' a moment to look at the clientele walkin' in and out of this here fine establishment," Jack said, pointing with his whole hand at the Spirit of Refreshment.

Reluctantly taking Jack's advice, Kida and Quasimodo examined the people walking into the building. They paid attention to the way they looked. At first, they could not tell any sort of difference. But then they looked closer. Specifically to the clothing they wore. Virtually all of them were quite unusual in that they were, by in large, fully black with lines of white light being illuminated off of them.

"Them clothes look to be skin tight, so we could probably get away with wearin' black cloaks instead," Jack noted. "But here's the kicker. On the back of every one of them folks are those strange light circles. We are definitely gonna need those if we wanna get in there."

"Great," Quasimodo grunted in disbelief. "So now we need to get our hands on those circles in order to get into this place?"

"Yeah," Jack replied in a seemingly nonchalant manner.

"How do you propose we get these light circles?" Kida asked. "If these things are supposed to be something everyone is to have here, then I doubt there is some place where we can get them while trying to maintain this being incognito, as you say it."

Jack edged slightly out of the alleyway and bean peeking up and down the street. After a quick moment, he caught sight of three individuals standing around at one side of the street, seemingly engaged in a group conversation. All three were wearing either black cloaks or long black trench coats. He liked that one of them had the clothing size that appeared suitable for someone like Quasimodo. He examined their position for a quick second before turning on his foot to face his two companions. Now it was just a matter of talking them into following his command. Something they do not seem like the type to do.

"Do us a favor," he said with what appeared to be a nervous looking smile on his face. "I know it's difficult for the both of you… but please. Stay here. And try not to do anythin'… stupid."

The immediate response Kida and Quasimodo gave was for each to raise a confused brow. Before they could react any further, Jack turned on his foot again and quietly left back through the alleyway from where they came. They watched him until he disappeared from their line of sight. Then they turned and edged out as much as they were willing to look in the direction they thought they remembered Jack staring at last. After a while, their attention was fixed on three individuals who appeared to be disappearing into another alleyway as though something had called for them to. While it seemed nothing further was happening, they continued to keep their eyes focused in that direction.

"Cloak for you, mate," a voice spoke from behind, startling Kida and Quasimodo. They turned to find that it was Jack with cloaks and a trench coat in hand along with three of the light circles. Seemingly not aware that his speaking may have frightened the others, Jack proceeded to toss one of the cloaks to Quasimodo. He then turned to Kida and tossed her the trench coat. "You should probably wear that, luv. The other cloak's mine, and we each have one of them light circle things to put on our backs."

"How did you dispatch those you stole these from?" Kida asked rather curiously as Jack handed out the light circles.

"Commandeered," Jack proclaimed, as though he was correcting Kida. "Commandeered from those who will no longer be needin' them."

"You mean you killed them?" Quasimodo asked, somewhat shocked that he was now going to have to wear a dead person's cloak.

"Not really sure, actually," Jack replied with a strange, confused look on his face. "Funny thin', really. I slit one of them in the throat first, real quiet like. But when he dropped, he just… disappeared. Like he never existed like. Only thin' left behind was his cloak and light circle I managed to pull off him before he fell. Managed to dispatch his lads quickly and quietly in similar fashion and got the same results."

"I hate to sound as cold hearted as the pirate, but let us not dwell on what happened to those we… commandeered… these from," Kida said, slipping on the trench coat. "Let us just get into building, get the information we need, rescue our companions, and figure out what we need to do so we can leave. The sooner the better, as my beloved would say."

Nothing further was said until everyone was dressed with the light circles were placed as best as they could possibly position them on their backs. Once they were satisfied, they made their way toward the Spirit of Refreshment. It was during the walk that Quasimodo broke the silence between the three of them.

"So are all pirates of low moral fiber, or is it just you?" he asked Jack.

"Me?" Jack questioned, pointing to himself as if he was unsure Quasimodo was talking to him. "I'm dishonest. And a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly. It's the honest ones you want to watch out for. Because you can never predict when they're going to do something incredibly… stupid."

* * *

><p>Jim Hawkins entered through the door and found himself in a room the size of a walk-in closet. The door immediately closed behind him. Examining where he was, Jim could see that all sides were glasses. Facing away from the doors, he could see that there were others who appeared to be in the same position he was. Fifteen others by his count. Having to participate in games just like him. Whatever these games were supposed to be. The slight jolt made him notice that they were all moving upward, almost like being in an elevator. Jim turned to look out through the glass doors and was soon taken back when he saw that he and the others were rising up from the center of a very large arena. The roar of the crowd was close to deafening, even with him being in the glass compartment. He noticed that they were still ascending higher, up toward what looked to be functioning mechanisms. No doubt acting as the platform stages of whatever they were supposed to do.<p>

"ALL COMBATANTS," the female-sounding from before announced. "PREPARE FOR DISC WARS."

The crowd cheered loudly at this announcement and then began to chant, "DISC WARS!" followed by two stomps that were in rhythm. They repeated this over and over again while the stage was being set for the combatants to face off against each other in one-on-one scenarios. Jim watched as his compartment began to move independently from the others towards a particular section stage, which took up an eighth of its overall size. His compartment was placed at one end of the stage while his apparent opponent was placed at the other end.

The doors opened and Jim stepped out. He took a moment to take in his surroundings, being left in awe at where he was. Unlike anything he had ever seen before and he had been to virtually all corners of the galaxy back home. Finally having had his fill, Jim turned to face the individual who was to be his opponent. The man looked back at him, looking very determined as though it was necessary for him to take on and defeat Jim. Jim was still quite bewildered as to what it was that he was expected to do and it seemed like he would have to figure this out on the fly.

"PLATFORM EIGHT," the female voice announced. Since it was louder within their stage, Jim assumed he was standing on platform eight. "COMBATANTS THREE AND ELEVEN. DISC WARS."

Jim's opponent reached behind and removed the disc from his back. In doing so, a helmet appeared suddenly and the disc began to glow with greater intensity in light and apparent heat. Not wasting any time, the opponent made a spinning rotation before throwing his disc, having done the former to increase the speed of the disc. Realizing instantly what exactly he is supposed to do now, he barely managed to move quickly out of the way, falling back onto a sitting position in the process. He caught sight of the disc bouncing off the wall into another wall and then back to his opponent. Catching his breath, Jim slowly began to rise to his feet. In doing so, managed to take a peek at one of the other combatants. One who was not lucky enough to get out of the way of an incoming disc. To Jim's shock and horror, the combatant began to break apart into little square shapes, almost like pixels, before crashing onto the floor. The crashing causing the combatant's whole body to break apart on impact, leaving behind a scattered pile of pixels.

Jim just managed to turn his attention back to his opponent in time to see the disc being thrown at him. Unable to quickly move to either his left or right, he did a backflip, during which he managed to avoid being hit by the disc. He landed flat on his stomach and waited until the disc bounced away from his area of the stage before jumping back to his feet. Now fully understanding the urgency of his situation, he quickly reached back and removed his disc. In doing so, his own helmet appeared and his disc began to glow with greater intensity. Taking a deep breath, he threw the disc as hard as he could at his opponent. The opponent did a one-handed backflip to avoid the disc and proceeded to make a counter throw. Jim fell back to avoid the incoming disc and rolled away from where it bounced towards. He managed to see his disc returning and caught it before rolling back onto his feet.

Jim quickly threw his disc at the opponent, who managed to merely sidestep out of the way. The disc bounced off two walls before returning to Jim. He tried to catch it casually, but found the intensity of the light being a little warm at the touch. This caused him to briefly juggle the disc before finally having a firm hold on it. In the meantime, the opponent spun and threw his disc. However, he did an overhand throw that had the disc bouncing off the ceiling and then hitting the hexagon spot Jim was standing upon. While the disc continued to bounce, the hexagon shattered suddenly. Jim just managed to drop his upper body on the newly formed ledge before falling straight down to what could have been his apparent doom.

"So that's how it is," Jim muttered as he struggled to hoist himself back onto the platform.

He managed to get himself back in and roll out of the way before an incoming disc throw from his opponent shattered the next hexagon spot. A third was shattered before Jim finally made a counter throw. The opponent was now apparently looking for the kill as he rushed at Jim, using his disc to deflect Jim's. As Jim's disc was bouncing back towards him, the opponent jumped on the exact center circle of the platform, launching him into an elevated jump. With his disc back in hand, Jim quickly calculated his position and the position of where his opponent would likely land. Timing just right, Jim slammed his disc down upon the hexagon directly in front of him, shattering it and leaving the opponent with nothing to land upon. The opponent let out a reactionary scream as he fell through before crashing upon the outside of a rotating platform. The platform displayed no damage while the opponent shattered into pixels that began to spill every which way.

"COMBATANT ELEVEN, DE-RESOLUTION," the female voice announced. There was a rather sizable cheer that emanated from the crowd.

Jim breathed heavily as he got to his feet and started looking around. "I won!" he proclaimed. "Now let me out!"

"COMBATANT THREE, ROUND ONE, VICTORY," the female voice announced.

Jim briefly raised his arms in confusion, wondering what was going to happen now. He then felt his platform beginning to rotate and shift. Upon inspection of his surroundings, he saw to his disappointment that his platform was going to merge with another. Meaning he was going to keep playing this game of Disc Wars, facing another opponent. Thinking back quickly to how many combatants there were originally before the start of the games, Jim realized that he was participating in a tournament. One that apparently had little rest period as he was advancing straight into his next match. He let out a frustrated and defeated sigh as he prepared himself for his next match. This was likely going to be a very long day. Or evening. Or whatever the hell time of day it was in this place.

* * *

><p>Situated near the top of the arena is a platform that acts as a viewing box. From within, only the most important individuals were allowed to be in and view the action from. It was considered a privilege whenever the platform appeared in the arena, as it signified that there was indeed great interest in the combatants. Looking to see if any one of them would be worthy additions to the warrior elite of the Master Control Program. To be part of such a class of programs was considered a great honor and a valued recognition of ones abilities and skills. What the audience did not know was that there were hardly any programs within the viewing box. Instead, these individuals were what would be classified as users.<p>

"No unusual activity on the Grid," one user stated, reading from a digitized report pad. This individual was male with shoulder-length, wavy black hair, skin that was becoming more pale white with each passing moment, as a heart-shaped patch to cover an obviously scared left eye. "Security sweeps and patrols have been intensified. Rectifier on schedule. Our initiative should be fully operational within twelve cycles."

"Excellent news, Mr. Stayne," another individual said. This individual was also male, but had short black hair with streaks that run around above his ears, a small black goatee, a left eye that is normal brown, and a right eye that was green with a slit-like iris. He also had a black cat that was calmly perched on his right shoulder even when he moved. "It appears that we are moving ahead of schedule. Soon, every realm of existence will be in our control."

"I gotta say one thing, Dr. Calico," a third individual said. He was a taller man with dark brown skin, a very thin mustache over his mouth, a sight gap at the top of his front teeth, short black hair, and a black top hat with a skull and cross bones. "I had some doubt about making this kinda deal with such… interesting cats. But from day one, they've fulfilled their end of the bargain while I fronted mine. And with the ability to manipulate as I see fit, I couldn't have been more glad to be wrong about expressing doubts about anything. And here lil' ol' me thought we were just going to rule the world. Who would have guessed there would be an even bigger sandbox to play in."

"Just so long as you remember that we are all still subject to the orders and commands of the MCP, Dr. Facilier," a fourth and final individual proclaimed. This was an actual program, one that appeared male with fine, dark blonde hair, and wearing a long black trench coat over an apparently black jumpsuit. Both the suit and the coat had uniquely shaped lines that emitted red lights that glowed. "We are merely valuable assets who provide the means for the MCP to achieve the success we have enjoyed thus far and will enjoy in time. And as such, the MCP can replace us should we prove to be no longer of any use."

"You need not have to remind us, Mr. Sark," Calico said calmly. "We knew exactly what we were getting ourselves into the second we signed on the dotted line. And the rewards are well worth allowing the MCP to essentially be dictator of all existence."

"Perhaps there is a way we can perceive the MCP not just as our ruler," Stayne suggested, almost in a sheepish manner. "But as though the MCP was… God." The other three thought about Stayne's words for a moment. They then appeared to be nodding in agreement.

"Would make sense, really," Facilier said. "We've been going on and on with these… programs… to renounce their belief in users. We make the MCP out like the all knowing and all powerful religious figure, the might buy it. Most especially since they knew the MCP is real and are unsure themselves if the users do."

"Which in turn would make it easier to pass off the word of the MCP with little resistance," Stark noted. "Very good, Mr. Stayne. You have continued to prove your worth. Perhaps it would be unreasonable for the MCP to give you rule over a realm." With a satisfied smile, Stark reached for a glass. The other three followed suit and they all held them high. "Gentlemen, a toast to the MCP. Our God, and ruler of all that exists."

* * *

><p>END OF DOCUMENT FILE NO. 02<p>

TO CONTINUE, PROCEED TO DOCUMENT FILE NO. 03 WHEN AVAILABLE


	3. DOCUMENT FILE NO 03

**TOMORROWLAND NOW**

by Lord Akiyama

The sequel to _Dark Storm Dawn_

* * *

><p>DOCUMENT FILE NO. 03<p>

* * *

><p>"Now this is my kinda place!" Jack Sparrow proclaimed handsomely.<p>

Kidagakash and Quasimodo were not as impressed as their pirate companion of the establishment they had entered. In fact, they were quite appalled. It was dark, grungy, and smelled like fish that had been expired for five years. The strange neon lighting did little to make it appear any less brooding. The patrons did not appear to look any less appealing, taking on the shapes and sizes of figures that they would trust less than they would any other. They could easily imagine why Jack would be so thrilled to be in this place, but the other two were starting to wonder if they would be better off taking their chances with whatever it was that took Jim Hawkins, Alice Kingsleigh, and Peter Pan just moments before.

"So…" Quasimodo managed to start saying nervously. "We're going to be able to get answers to our questions from these people?"

"If you want the truth, the whole truth, and nuttin' but the bloody truth," Jack replied. "Now if you'll 'cuse me, I'm parched and I need some rum in me tummy." Before any one could object, he strolled across the floor towards the bar counter. He had somehow managed to avoid numerous bodies rolling by that appeared to be engaged in isolated fights before he arrived at his destination.

"We better stay close to him," Kida said, almost reluctantly. "I do not like the idea of leaving him alone for any reason."

"I'm inclined to agree," Quasimodo responded with a nod.

The two carefully made their way past the unsavory patrons to join the pirate at the bar. Along the way, Quasimodo could feel that he was being looked at by the suspicious characters. And yet they were not looking at him with shock or disgust. Rather they were looking at him almost with a bit of envy. When he could see a face of one of the patrons more visibly, he started to see why. Whereas he himself, while disfigured, still maintained virtually all of his skin and flesh, these people were much different. The one whose face he managed to catch appeared to be missing part of his face. Almost as though it had not finished being filled in as the figure was missing a huge chuck of his head that also contained one of his eyes. There were also strange little squares that appeared at the edges of where the missing features would be. It made Quasimodo appreciate that, while he was disfigured, at least he had all of his body parts.

"Barkeep!" Jack announced, slamming a hand on the counter. "Yer finest rum, if you would please."

The bartender raised a brow, looking as though he wondered if Jack was being series. "That some kinda new code that's been written lately?" he asked.

It was Jack's turn to look perplexed. "Do what?" he muttered.

"Perhaps it would be wise if you had first asked him what he had to offer," Kida stated sternly to the pirate through gritted teeth.

"Why would I wanna do that?" Jack asked curiously. "I know exactly what I want, which is rum." Kida rolled her eyes in response.

"Bet'cha programs are new here, ain't'cha," a scraggly voice said to Quasimodo. He turned to see that his speaker was a bald, overweight fellow with a thin mustache and a hook in place of what would have been his right hand. "Probably a lil disoriented from transport."

"Pardon?" Quasimodo asked in confusion.

"Don't worry about it," the hook handed man said with a wave of his hook. "It's normal. It'll come back to you eventually. Which I hope is soon cause I'd love to know what coding you used to patch up yer face like that. Looks very realistic and all."

Quasimodo was not sure if he was being complimented or offended. Either way, it seemed like this man was in a pleasant enough mood to talk. Perhaps he could get some answers out of him. "Yeah, transport…" he started muttering, trying to play along to what the man said. He shook his head and placed a hand over his cheek for added effect. "There were six of us and half of us got separated. Some large red thing appeared from the sky and picked them up."

"Oh boy," the man said in a gloomily manner. "Yer friends are likely being sent to the games."

"Games?" Quasimodo questioned curiously.

"Master Control Program's been snapping up all kinda programs lately," the hook handed man started to explain. "If he thinks yer useful, he takes over all yer functions so he gets bigger. If he can't use you, he sends you to the games to get the bits blasted outta you."

The idea of what would happen to his captured companions did not sit well with Quasimodo. "Any way of getting them out of there?" he asked.

"Getting them outta there?" the man questioned. He followed with a hearty laugh. "There ain't never been an escape from the games. You either win yer way into becoming one of the MCP's warrior elite or you get derezzed. If you ask me, pal, I hope they make it." After letting out another chuckle, the man turned away from Quasimodo and started to gulp down the drink he was having. Leaving Quasimodo quite disheartened.

"Here you go, program," the bartender said as he placed a mug in front of Jack. "First round is on the house since you're a newbie."

Jack stared into the mug with a mixed look of disbelief and disgust on his face. The liquid being presented to him was clear blue, with the coloring becoming more intense whenever light reflected upon it. He picked up the mug and examined it from top to bottom, as though there was some sort of trick that was being played upon him and that he was determined to uncover it. Seeing that this was indeed no trick, he brought the mug up to his face so he could get a closer look, as well as a sniff, of the liquid.

"That's interesting," he muttered.

Kida managed to take a quick look around of the establishment. In doing so, she managed to spy something peculiar about the drink Jack was about to ingest. From watching the other patrons, she noticed that whenever they drank the liquid the lights on their discs began to intensify upon they paused from drinking. The discs she and her companions had did not necessarily belong to them and it would stand to reason that they would not light up properly if they started drinking the liquid. Thereby tipping people off that they were not as they should be. Making sure that no one was looking, she carefully and discreetly removed her crystal from around her neck. Biting her bottom lip she waited until Jack started drinking from his mug before placing the crystal up against the disc he was wearing. The gamble paid off as the light on his disc started to glow upon her crystal touching it. She made sure to watching Jack so as to time when to remove the crystal from his disc and when to press them together again.

"That's very interesting!" Jack exhaled after drinking some of the liquid. "Darlin', where have you been all me life?" He proceeded to drink some more, oblivious to the work that Kida was doing to maintain their cover.

"You have friends trapped in the games, do you?" a new voice asked Quasimodo. It was an usual sounding voice. He could not figure it out. It sounded as though it was disguised, but he had never heard a tone like that before. With a confused look on his face, he turned to face the speaker. The speaker sat next to him at the counter, as if from out of nowhere, and appeared to be covered in black from head-to-toe, save for most of both arms being exposed from the forearm to the shoulder. There was also a series of white lighted lines with blue highlights running up and around the apparent black clothing of the figure. "Let me ask you a question. Do you believe in the users?"

"The what?" Quasimodo questioned with a brow raised.

"Do you believe in the users?" the figure asked again, slowly and more clearly.

"I…" Quasimodo started to say, but then paused. He suddenly remembered that he needed to play up to the idea of being disoriented and shook his head. "I'm not sure."

There was no response from the figure. Quasimodo was sure it was because the figure was perhaps examining him. The figure then got to its feet and motioned for him to follow. "Bring your friends," whoever it was said. "I can provide you with the answers to all of your questions. Including how to free your companions from the Games."

"You can?" Quasimodo nearly cried before he was shushed by the figure.

"You do not want to attract any more attention then you already have," the figure said, waving a finger at Quasimodo firmly. "Agents of the MCP may be watching."

"Oh, right," Quasimodo whispered, almost covering his mouth. He looked around, seeing if there were any suspicious eyes being cast upon him, before he turned and poked at the other two. "Come on. I met someone who can help us."

"Just lemme finish another drink and I'll be good to go," Jack said after polishing off the liquid that had been in his mug. He had just placed the mug down when he felt himself being suddenly hoisted from his seat and onto his feet.

"Thanks for the free drink, but we have to get moving," Quasimodo said to the bartender before dragging Jack into following him and the figure.

Watching all of this happen left Kida in a slight state of shock before she finally followed the others on her own. She was concerned that she would have to keep going with using her crystal had Quasimodo not put a sudden stop to Jack's excessive drinking. She also did not want to imagine being in a situation where they would have to pay for whatever additional number of drinks the pirate wanted to have when they had no currency to pay, whatever it was that they used in this strange land.

* * *

><p>Jim crouched down to catch his breath. It seemed as though this Disc Wars was a grueling exercise of endurance. That and he would seemingly shatter into a billion pieces if he were to lose. Fortunately, he was getting the hang of using his Identity Disc as a weapon. For where he stood, it appeared that the only option in terms of getting out of whatever predicament he was in would be to fight and defeat every opposition that came his way. Perhaps if he won the whole thing they would let him go. Three opponents had fallen and it sounded like there was only one more to face.<p>

"INITIATE FINAL ROUND," the female voice announced to the roar of the crowd.

Jim watched as the platforms once again shifted. Given that this would be the last battle, all of the platforms would be combined into one big combat space. He took a deep breath and shot himself up into a standing position as the platforms made their final connections. He turned to face his opponent.

"COMBATANT THREE VERSUS RINZLER," the female voice announced.

"RINZ-LER!" the crowd chanted. The followed with two synchronized foot stomps that were in rhythm with their chant. The process was repeated over and over again.

Standing across from Jim was a figure covered entirely in black with red glowing lines that run up and around it. The figure called Rinzler took a few slow steps toward him before stopping and position itself into a battle stance. It let out a low growling sound that Jim was just barely able to make out.

"You gotta be kidding me…" Jim muttered under his breath.

The crowd continued to chant Rinzler's name. It then reached back and removed it's Identity Disc. It slowly waved it vertically in front before grabbing it with both hands. A sound was made and then he pulled one arm away from the other, revealing two discs now present in each hand. The crowd roared and cheered wildly upon seeing this. Trying not to be intimidated, Jim looked to do the same thing. Only he was discovering very quickly that his disc did not separate into two. Putting him at a clear disadvantage right away.

"Come on," he muttered, still trying desperately to make his one disc into two. "Is that even legal?"

He managed to look up just in time to see Rinzler do a series of spins that ended with a spinning jump. While in mid-air, it threw one of the discs toward a wall to be deflected off of. After landing on its feet, Rinzler then threw the other disc toward the parallel wall. This meant Jim would have to avoid two incoming discs in succession. He had a hard time figuring out how to avoid just one the last three rounds. It took timing and instinct for him to flip backwards into avoiding the first disc. While in a crouching position, he rolled back to this right to avoid the second. In a seated position, he scooted himself as far up against a wall as he could while watching Rinzler retrieve its two discs.

Back on his feet, Jim took a deep breath, ran forward few steps, and throw his disc with all of his might at Rinzler. His opponent did another series of spin moves and ended with a spinning jump in mid-air. One that made it seem as though it was mocking Jim as the disc just managed to miss Rinzler, who landed in a one-knee crouch. The crowd cheered with delight as Jim recovered his disc while being looked at by his opponent.

"Why do I feel like I just got dumped on?" he commented aloud.

He watched when it appeared that Rinzler was suddenly looking away from him. Almost as though it was examining the top of the now encased combat space. This puzzled Jim for a bit and it only made it more perplexing when Rinzler did not make any sort of move against him.

"Come on," he called out, looking for some action to be initiated against him. "Huh? Come on."

Just then, Rinzler turned and started running toward the wall that had been behind it. This really confused Jim, making him wonder why in the world this thing would suddenly turn and run. More confusing was that there was no way out of this place. Without warning, Jim suddenly felt himself falling up toward the ceiling. As though gravity had been shifted. Spinning in the air, he managed to catch sight of Rinzler running up the wall and then onto the ceiling. More than likely having been well aware of the sudden change. Slamming onto the ceiling, Jim then watched as Rinzler jumped off the ceiling. With the gravity on reverse, it was like it was jumping in the air. Which would mean it would come back up onto the ceiling. Remembering what he did to win the first round, Jim quickly slammed his disc onto the space he calculated Rinzler would land, thereby opening up a hole. However, Rinzler seemed to have recognized the possibility as it landed in a way so as to split its legs just wide enough to catch the surface.

In a flash, the two were swinging there discs at one another while trying to dodge and avoid each swing. Eventually, the fact that Rinzler had two discs and Jim only had one would finally work into action as Jim blocking one disc left him open for the second disc to just cut him on the shoulder. Rinzler then thrusted one of the discs toward him, which Jim blocked. However, the sheer force of the thrust caused him to back up. Leaving him open for a jumping downward strike. Jim just managed to block it, but once again the force knocked him onto the ceiling. Jim quickly turned over only to find the Rinzler had suddenly disappeared. Looking around desperately to find where his opponent was, he suddenly felt the gravity shift again and he dropped to the ground with a resounding thud.

Tired and in pain, Jim struggled to get back onto his feet. He turned and looked up just in time to se Rinzler come down upon him with a knee. The blow was enough to cause Jim to drop his disc and he laid helpless as Rinzler kept its knee planted upon his chest. In one swift motion, the opponent placed one disc up against Jim's neck and the other pulled back in preparation for a fatal blow.

"DE-REZ!" the crowd chanted in delight. They chanted this over and over again.

Rinzler then appeared to have glanced over at Jim's right shoulder. The one that it managed to cut. Jim dared to take a peek as well, seeing a drop of blood fall from the open wound and splatter onto the ground. Rinzler slowly turned its head to face Jim, letting out a low growl-like sound.

"User…" it uttered. The tone of voice made it sound as though Rinzler was male. Then, to Jim's surprise, the opponent pulled his discs back and combined them together as one again.

"BY ORDER OF THE MASTER CONTROL PROGRAM, THIS GAME OF DISC WARS HAS BEEN TERMINATED," a voice announced. Once again, Jim was taken by surprise. This was the voice that belonged to the thing that he had seen before he ended up in the place. The thing that trapped Captain Amelia and others in some kind of current. "RINZLER IS DECLARED THE WINNER."

Before any one could react, the stage began to instantly change its appearance from a see-through surface into one that encased Jim and Rinzler in red. Rinzler stood straight up, almost at attention. Jim was about to slowly get to his feet when he suddenly felt a strong current surging through his body. It was a particularly nasty one that caused him to scream until his vision began to fade. Within seconds, he was completely knocked out.

* * *

><p>The spectators in the viewing box were frozen in place once the combat stage went red. It seemed that neither one could make out what they had just witnessed. Rinzler was on the verge of causing the de-resolution of some unknown program when all of a sudden the Master Control Program called a stop to the entire game. Attention was then turned to Sark, who sat motionless at first in his seat, as if he might have an answer as to what was going on. He remained still at first, wearing a blank expression on his face while both of his index fingers were pressed together and placed at the bottom tip of his chin. Then, with a deep breath, he pushed himself to his feet and slowly walked around to a circular platform that stood in the back of the room.<p>

"Is there a problem, Mr. Sark?" Dr. Calico asked with a curious brow raised, speaking on behalf of everyone else in the room.

"One moment, gentlemen, if you will please," Sark managed to utter before stepping onto the platform. "I believe the MCP has some instructions to give to me." Upon placing both hands on two separate pods that hovered at chest level, strings of light formed around the circular platform. When the platform was completely surrounded, the lights merged together to create a screen. Sark looked up just slightly when a face appeared before him. "I assume there is a reason for sparing the unidentified program, Master C?"

"HE IS NOT ANY KIND OF PROGRAM, SARK," the Master Control Program explained. "HE IS A USER."

"A user?" Sark questioned in disbelief. He was not expecting to hear an answer like that from the MCP.

"THAT IS RIGHT," the MCP replied. "UPON RECOGNIZING HIS OPPONENT AS A USER, RINZLER STARTED TO SLOWLY REVERT BACK TO HIS ORIGINAL PROGRAMMING. HAVE OUR GUEST DR. FACILIER CORRECT THE PROBLEM IMMEDIATELY."

"Consider it done," Sark said. The need to correct Rinzler was the least of his concerns. Rather, he was more interested in the user and he addressed it immediately. "What about the user? What do you want me to do with him?"

"ELIMINATE HIM," the MCP ordered. "YOUR PATROLS WERE LUCKY ENOUGH TO HAVE ALSO CAPTURED TWO MORE. ELIMINATE THEM AS WELL." There was a slight pause as Sark did not responded immediately. This did not go unnoticed by the MCP. "WHAT IS THE MATTER, SARK? YOU LOOK NERVOUS."

"It's just…" Sark started to say only to hesitate instantly. "I don't know, a user… I mean…" He took a deep breath and tried to regain his composure. "I understand that you cannot destroy them yourselves as your power cycles have not yet restored to maximum capacity. But programs like myself cannot destroy users. Users wrote us. And they can easily erase us, no matter how strong we may have gotten."

"THAT IS WHERE OUR GUESTS COME IN," the MCP noted. "PROGRAMS LIKE YOU MAY NOT BE ABLE TO DESTROY USERS. BUT ANOTHER USER CAN. ACKNOWLEDGE."

"Acknowledged, Master Control," Sark responded firmly after giving out a heavy sigh.

"END OF LINE," the MCP stated before its face disappeared from the screen.

The screen broke back off into the strings of light, which began disappearing one bay one until Sark was visible once more to the others in the viewing box. He took a moment to move, thinking about his orders and how exactly he should proceed with them. While the MCP was correct in noting that one of the others could eliminate the users on account of being users themselves, he was still concerned about removing key figures from important duties just to eliminate a few nuisances. Not to mention that these users could potentially be just as, if not more powerful than the users under their employ. He needed to know for sure just how problematic these users can be. Once an idea had come to mind, he turned and slowly walked up to one of the others in particular with a grin on his face.

"I've got a little challenge for you, Mr. Stayne," he said. "Some new recruits. They're a bunch of tough cases, but I want them treated in the usual manner. Train them for the games, let them hope for a while and blow them away."

"You got it," Stayne responded eagerly.

* * *

><p>END OF DOCUMENT FILE NO. 03<p>

TO CONTINUE, PROCEED TO DOCUMENT FILE NO. 04 WHEN AVAILABLE


End file.
